


Making Up

by Bionic (Vexza)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Established Relationship, Fingering, Floor Sex, M/M, Makeup Sex, Sticky, i dont write nsfw a lot how do i tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexza/pseuds/Bionic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heatwave and Chase had an argument, and Heatwave feels bad about it. They make up in the best way possible. (Post-S1 EP16)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Up

**Author's Note:**

> no offense but the part where Chase jumps into the EMP zone to save Heatwave was probably one of the Gayest things I ever seen... and you can bet Heatwave got chewed tf out about it afterwards. takes place a day or two after rules & regulations

_“Well_ perhaps _,” Chase had said evenly, almost coldly. “If you had listened to me, you would not have almost gotten yourself and our team killed.”_

Probably the most irritating thing about the argument he had had with Chase last night, Heatwave reflected, was that the policebot was right. As oblivious to nuance as Chase could be, he had good judgement, and wasn’t in the habit of making bad calls. Logically, Heatwave knew all of these things.

Still, he didn’t react well to accusations and people being mad at him. Who did?

He stared at his punching bag and sighed aloud. He had probably deserved it. After all, he had disobeyed Chief’s order- _and_ Chase’s urgent suggestions- and almost gotten himself and the other bots _melted,_ for Primus’ sake. He had made a terrible call, and he knew it. So why couldn’t he have just admitted that to Chase? Why had their tiff last night escalated into a full-blown argument?

Part of it, he reasoned as he swung at the punching bag dispassionately, had nothing to do with the mission gone awry. They had had their fair share of disagreements over the past couple weeks, over things that seemed relatively minor in retrospect. It wasn’t that they were mad at each other, per se; it was just that they had stressful jobs and were in a stressful situation, so sometimes they took their frustration out on each other and the people close to them- Heatwave especially.

What had happened the other night in the EMP zone was different, he knew. It wasn’t a type of frustration that could be released by yelling at Kade for twenty minutes. Chase had probably been worried- scared, even. He had jumped into the path of a geyser to keep Heatwave from being melted alive- and if that wasn’t stressful, Heatwave didn’t know what was.

Heatwave sighed again and knocked his forehead against the punching bag. It all made sense. Chase had been worried and stressed, and Heatwave had been the idiot that caused the problem. Was it really so strange that Chase got upset with him?

And what had Heatwave done in response? He had gotten angry right back. He had started an argument. It was almost like a reflex.

 _“Classy.”_ He could almost hear Kade remarking reproachfully.

Heatwave jumped off the punching bag’s stand and walked further into the bunker. He knew he had to do something he wished he would never have to do but ended up doing a great deal; not for his sake, but for Chase’s.

He had to apologize for getting mad.

He almost shuddered at the thought.

Still, it wasn’t Chase’s fault that the firebot was a hotheaded jerk who couldn’t handle the people he cared about being upset with him. He hadn’t deserved the added stress of the argument the two of them had had last night, and Heatwave truly, genuinely felt _bad_ about it.

He found Chase standing in one of the bunker’s back rooms, behind the bookshelf that hid the entrance to their ship’s hangar. He was reading what looked like a book of police codes- in German- but glanced up when Heatwave entered.

Heatwave stalled in the entrance, suddenly unsure of what to say. Silently, he cursed himself.

Chase closed the book slowly and placed it on a table leaned against the wall. “Yes?”

Heatwave clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Chase regarded him for a moment, expression flat and unreadable. “Very well.”

Heatwave remained where he was for a moment, and then crossed the room to stand in front of the policebot. He met Chase’s optics for a brief moment, and then cast his gaze to the side.

“Look, I- I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, or to Chief. It was a bad call.”

“A very bad call.” Chase agreed.

Heatwave set his jaw, but he conceded that he probably deserved that. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you. You were… right. There was no reason for me to get mad at you.”

Chase continued to stare blankly, saying nothing.

Heatwave’s resolve faltered for the briefest of moments. He hated apologizing- mostly because he did a lot of things that required apologies. That, and every time he went to Chase to say sorry for something and saw that cold, flat, angry expression, all he could think about was every stupid thing he had ever done that made Chase mad, or upset, and wonder why he bothered to put up with it.

He pushed the thoughts aside. He and Chase had been together a long time- long before they ever came to Earth, and even before they had been put on a rescue bot team with Boulder and Blades. If there was something about the firebot that Chase well and truly couldn’t stand, they wouldn’t have stuck together for all this time. Deep down, he _knew_ that.

“I didn’t get mad because I thought you were wrong, Chase.” He explained, determined. “I just… I didn’t like that I made you upset, okay? I knew you were right, and I understood how being put in that situation made you feel, and I… didn’t want to deal with that last night.” He said somewhat lamely.

Finally, Chase’s expression flickered, and he broke optic contact.

“You had every right to be mad at me, too.” He pressed on. “Disobeying orders, not listening to my second-in-command- that’s not how I should conduct myself. I put the team in danger. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell over the both of them. Heatwave was pretty sure he had covered everything. Chase didn’t look at him, simply stared to the side; no doubt processing what had been said. Heatwave waited as patiently as he could, but couldn’t help from shifting uncomfortably.

“I apologize for getting upset.” Chase said finally, wringing his servos together. His optics were fixed on a point slightly to the left of Heatwave’s face.

“Me too.” Heatwave replied quietly. “You shouldn’t- you don’t have to apologize, you know. You’re allowed to get upset about things.”

There was a beat of silence. “I know. So are you.” Chase’s voice was barely more than a whisper, and he finally turned and locked optics with Heatwave. He had to tilt his head back to do so, and Heatwave suddenly noticed how close they were standing. Neither of them stepped away.

Chase began to wring his servos anew, this time massaging his wrist in agitation. “I was too easily frustrated. I lost my composure too quickly.”

Heatwave sighed, and gently took each of Chase’s hands in his own. Chase allowed it. Heatwave guided his arms so that they wrapped around his shoulders and the back of his neck, and then looped his own arms around Chase’s waist. They stepped closer together.

“Chase, don’t think I don’t know that I’m an asshole.” Heatwave said. “I mean, I’m a hothead, I get it. If anyone has a composure problem, it’s me. I don’t- I don’t want you to feel like you have to have it together all the time. I mean, Primus, if you wanted to yell at me because you thought my taste in music was bad or something like that, I probably wouldn’t even think twice about it. If I piss you off, I want you to tell me about it.”

Chase almost, but not quite, smiled. “You are just very impulsive. Sometimes, you frustrate me. But that does not mean you are… an asshole.”

“I know some people who would disagree with you.” Heatwave muttered, starting to become rather distracted by the body pressed against his. He ran his servos up and down Chase’s back, and the bot shivered at the touch. “I’m also incredibly over-emotional.”

Chase’s optics dimmed. “I rather like that about you.”

Heatwave smirked. “Really?”

Chase nodded. “Yes, except for when it causes you to make especially bad decisions.”

“Well, you know me.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Chase’s. They remained like that for a beat and a half, and then Heatwave pulled away. “I like making decisions based on limited information and zero logic. That’s what I keep you around for, you know; to second guess me every five seconds.”

That one got a brief laugh out of Chase, and Heatwave grinned for a moment before he leaned back in for another kiss. This one lasted much longer, and as their arms wound tighter around each other, Heatwave was struck by how much he had missed just _touching_ Chase. He felt like it had been forever since they’d been this close, and he was practically drinking in the other bot’s presence.

Chase broke the kiss this time, and Heatwave shifted his attention to Chase’s neck. The policebot inhaled sharply.

“I’m sorry.” Heatwave murmured.

“I forgive you.” Chase gasped.

Apology accepted, Heatwave began to move onto the _making up_ part of the process. It was his favorite part.

A few moments later, and his continued attack on Chase’s neck seemed to be making the poor bot weak in the knees, so he helpfully smoothed his hands across the bot’s thighs, applying gentle pressure. Chase got the idea, and obligingly wrapped one leg around his waist, and then-with a grunt from Heatwave as he took on his weight- the other.

Heatwave steadied the two of them, momentarily distracted from his ministrations. Chase took it as an opportunity to press their lips back together, and his partner made a pleased noise. Heatwave debated carrying Chase somewhere more suited to their _activities_ , but ultimately it didn’t seem like the locale really registered in either of their processors.

Heatwave slowly sank to his knees right there on the floor, and Chase adjusted himself slightly so that he was balanced on his lap. Heat from Chase’s crotch warmed Heatwave’s thighs, and he couldn’t help but half-smile into the kiss. He braced one arm against Chase’s lower back, and used the other hand to reach down between them and caress his interface panel.

Chase moaned into the kiss and- helpfully- slid open his interface panel. Heatwave slipped a finger through the swollen lips of his valve, dipping into the moist spot beginning to form between them before sliding up and pressing on the node located near the front of it. He rubbed firmly against it, alternately moving back and forth and in tight circles.

A few moments later, Chase broke the kiss and exvented harshly, his cooling fans audibly kicking on. He leaned back a bit, bracing his hands against Heatwave’s shoulders and using the leverage to grind harder down on his hand. His hips rolled down on his hand in small but even movements, and Heatwave obligingly kept his fingers _right_ where they were for him.

Heatwave found himself grinning up at Chase. The policebot’s optics were dimmed to the point of being turned off, and almost closed. His head was inclined forward, his forehead nearly touching Heatwave’s, and his mouth hung open just the slightest bit. He was the perfect picture of concentration as he ground against Heatwave’s hand, and Heatwave found himself getting uncomfortably warm just watching the display.

He felt Chase’s valve starting to twitch and clench on his fingers, and he slid his hand out from between them. Chase’s optics brightened again as he did, and he fixed his partner with a look of pure disapproval.

Heatwave chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that.” He slipped his hands underneath Chase’s thighs again, and lifted him slightly so that he could shift him all the way onto the ground. Once his aft touched the floor, Chase leaned back until he was laying down, legs still hooked around Heatwave’s waist. Heatwave leaned forward until he was looming above Chase, positioned snugly between his legs.

“My legs were getting tired.” Heatwave explained.

“I am certain that you’ll be fine.” Chase assured him, completely unsympathetic to his plight. He flexed his legs and pulled Heatwave even closer, forcing the firebot to brace his hands against the ground on either side of Chase’s head for fear of falling over on top of him.

“Alright, alright.” Heatwave balanced himself on one hand and reached down with the other as his own interface panel opened. He gripped his spike as it extended and shifted his weight so that he was in a better position. Chase’s legs widened a little further as Heatwave repositioned himself, and the tip of his spike teased at the entrance to Chase’s valve.

Heatwave pressed into him, first with just the tip of his spike and then, on the second thrust, nearly all the way to the base. Chase gasped and arched his back, lifting himself almost completely off the ground.

Once he was all the way in, Heatwave leaned both hands back on the floor, hovering just barely above his partner, who whimpered as the angle drove Heatwave’s spike deeper into his valve.

Heatwave pressed a quick kiss to Chase’s lips without thinking. “Are you okay?”

Chase could only nod, and moaned as Heatwave pulled nearly all the way back out and thrust back in.

For his part, Heatwave was having a little bit of trouble finding a rhythm. He made a noise of frustration as his hips shook and he thrust back in somewhat erratically. He had been less prepared than he thought for how _good_ the slick, warm wetness of Chase’s valve felt, and his thoughts were getting a bit scattered every time he pushed back in and encountered the tightness of it.

He did, eventually, find a rhythm, and he started up a rough pace that had both of them venting hard within a few moments. His hips rolled into Chase’s, never quite pulling all the way out before pushing back in; Chase clawed at his shoulders and made small fervent noises into his audial.

Heatwave dug his fingers in between the metal plates on top of and behind Chase’s hips- the plates obligingly shifted slightly to give him better access. Heatwave caressed the softer metal beneath almost soothingly as Chase cried out, electricity arcing from his body to Heatwave’s hands; Heatwave shuddered as the shock sent a pleasurable tingle down his spine.

Heatwave’s hips stuttered in their rhythm as he felt Chase tense up beneath him.

“I- _uhh_ , I- _Heatwave-_ ” Chase gasped, voice laden with static. Heatwave couldn’t help but groan as Chase’s legs tightened around his waist again, and his valve clenched firmly down around his spike- but Chase wasn’t done quite yet. Heatwave adjusted his angle slightly and kept pounding into his partner relentlessly.

“ _Chase,_ ” Heatwave ground out. “Chase, I love you so much, Primus, you feel _so good_. I could- _unh_ \- I could frag you all day and night, you make me so-”

Chase seemed to get the idea, because before Heatwave could finish he tossed his head back and shouted as his overload overtook him. His whole body practically shook with the force of it, and Heatwave moaned along with him as the bot’s valve squeezed his spike mercilessly.

Heatwave didn’t stop as his partner came totally undone, but kept pumping their hips together and _watching_ him overload, marveling in the perfect, beautiful eroticism of it all. It wasn’t long after that that he felt his own body tensing, then releasing; he overloaded, long and hard, while Chase started to wind down, his optics dim and his vocal processor merely emitting a mess of static and moaning.

Neither of them moved for a long while, until Chase wiggled his hips to encourage Heatwave to get off of him. Heatwave grumbled something and stirred, shifting his weight off the bot trapped beneath him. He sat back on his knees, withdrawing his spike and closing his interface panel with an audible click- Chase did the same.

Heatwave wordlessly lay down on the floor next to Chase and pulled him into his arms; Chase buried his face in the firebot’s neck. It was only after a few minutes of silence that Chase realized they were still lying in the middle of the floor, and that he had rather telling transfluid stains on his legs.

“Should we move?” He asked, muffled.

“No.”

And so there they remained.

**Author's Note:**

> blades walks in on them a little while after this and is like.... can I get ya'll anything... snacks... condoms.... primus love ya


End file.
